Twenty One
by Liebling
Summary: “Are you seeing anyone?” He asked quietly. “No,” she said shortly, “there’s been no other. There’s never been...anyone else.” (DM&PP) Pansy's 21st birthday.


_Janey: I think it'd give me good confidence. _

_Ed: I didn't think you needed it. _

_~Rain_

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_~_

_~_

**"_Happy birthday, baby,_**_" _he whispered into her ear.  She laughed, like a child, and she threw her arms 'round his neck.

"I know!" She said. "I know."

"Twenty one, isn't it?"  He said wryly as she laced her fingers tighter around his neck.

"Yes," she said, "oh Christ, Malfoy, I'm becoming **old**."

"Remember what I always said, do you?"  He questioned coolly as he picked idly at the frosted cake.  

"You said I'd be little 'till I was twenty one.  Didn't you?  And you said when I was twenty one I could do whatever I wanted!" 

_April Thirteenth._

"So, Parkinson," he began, "I'm not sure I quite wanna let you 'way, now."

"Oh Malfoy," she commented as she twirled about in her pink party dress.  "I think you'll have to."

"Wine?" He asked, lifting a tall bottle and swishing the chilled liquid around.

"White?"

"Nah," he said nonchalantly opening the bottle and tipping the liquid into his mouth. "Red."

"Mmmm," she bit her lip, "okay."  He poured her a glass and brought it over to her.

"Your Mother and Father threw you a party, didn't they?" He asked, concerned.

"Yeah.  They...they did," the girl said rather quietly. "Look, they didn't want to...invite you, I'm sorry, okay?"

His crystal eyes looked stonily to her scarlet ones. "The break-up, eh?"

"Ah, Malfoy, you broke their daughter's heart, they didn't want to see you at all? Shh, why we must meet in secret, you see? _Mother always said no one made me smile like you did,_" she said, reminiscing.

"That was five bloody years ago, Parkinson," he cursed, none too quietly under his breath.

"Yeah? Yeah it was, wasn't it? I haven't seen you in five bloody years either. You remembered though...didn't you? The thirteenth..."

He looked at her oddly and took another sip of wine.  The man looked angry, almost.  Just almost.  More like hurt, really.

"Are you seeing anyone?" He asked quietly.

**"No," she said shortly, "there's been no other.  There's never been...anyone else."**

_"Not even Blaise?"_

"Oh, Christ, no," she said, "like I said, there's been no other.  Never been anyone else."

He smiled weakly.

"And you?" She questioned.

"Been sort of lonely, Parkinson."

"Not you," she said seriously, "no, no, you don't get lonely, Malfoy."

"Oh don't I?" He commented sarcastically as she sat down beside him on the dark velvet loveseat.

"I don't know," she said firmly, "not the Malfoy I knew."

"How is everyone?"  He said.  "I've been...away."

She didn't ask what 'away' meant but knew he meant he had seen the world in the long time they'd been away from each other.

"Who do you want to know about?  Oh I don't know, Malfoy.  You think things have been fun for me?  I've been waitressing at the Three Broomsticks and working mornings' in Honeydukes.  What have I been reduced to? Bloody nothing," she said, sounding morose.  He looked over at her and then back at the parchment-colored walls.

_"And we always were so rich,"_ he said thoughtfully.

"Mummy and Daddy, they do 'stuff' for me.  They got me a fur coat back in October. Oh, Christ, it's the most gorgeous thing in all of the world, really.  Very very, pretty.  I don't deserve it though.  It doesn't go with the gray uniform skirts and the black sweater vests.  And on Sunday's sometimes I'll read the _Bible_ in the drawer and actually believe some of it. Isn't that silly, then?"  She became quite emotional and a tear dropped upon her pale hand as she hastily tried to wipe it away.

He couldn't really sympathize with her, that was a silly word, but his heart beat swiftly and it was almost like sympathy.  "You're going mad inside."

"And I don't think I'm the only one, either," she whispered.  

He would've said: 'why don't we talk about something else?' or 'you're twenty one, Parkinson, how did things get so bad?' But he hadn't the heart to ask, although he had the nerve.  And she turned her face away from him, so he wouldn't see the tears.  Parkinson always got like that when she cried, much too proud to let someone see her cry but not wanting to do it in private, either. She made choking noises and she covered her face with her hands.  Then she took a deep breath and made eye contact with the young Malfoy once more.

"Twenty one," she commented dully, "and how did things get this bad?"

He almost laughed at the irony of it all but bit his tongue.  "Can't say I've missed you, Parkinson."

"Can't say I haven't missed you, Malfoy," she responded.  "Sometimes all I think about is Hogwarts and how young we were back then...and the sun and the moon."

"I think of it too, sometimes, but things weren't that great then. I mean, you can't believe that?"

She put her feet up on the coffee table. "Yeah," she said, "I can.  Nothing was perfect, Malfoy.  But I see us in my mind and _my God_ we were just...**_so gorgeous_**."

_"Of course you were," he said quietly, "Never been anything different, either."_

"Don't give me bull," she said bitterly, "who've you been dating?"

He stared at her tired jade heels and stuttered slightly: "Mandy...Ravenclaw uh, she's my fiancée, actually."

If possible, Pansy looked very pained but she took a deep breath and smiled. "So you're happy, then?"

"Oh, that's a silly word, Parkinson. I'm good, I mean, _yeah, yeah._"

She bit her lip and then her pink nails. "Right," she said in disbelief.  "Good, then."

Malfoy looked at her strangely and she continued on.

"The funny part--" she began "--I always thought you'd come after me. You know, that's why I ran away, I think. So you could follow. And you never were into games, Malfoy.  And you have a fiancée, now. And I waited all this time for you.  For you to come back and claim me as your own.  And you're back...now...and there shall be no claiming.  I'm...I'm _free_."

He was torn between throwing an arm around her and between storming out of the flat that instant. 

"When's the wedding?" She commented dryly.

"July," he said, "the sixteenth.  Next year."

"Summer weddings are amazing," she said in a removed tone. 

"Mandy thought so," he shrugged.

"You and Mandy--" she said thoughtfully "--will have gorgeous children. Oh god, yeah."

He looked at her and blinked. "Not sitting right with you, is it Parkinson?"

"No," she shook her head, "it isn't.  Here, umm, I have to go to sleep soon, work tomorrow.  So I'm going to cut you a slice of cake, two, okay? For you and Mandy and you can eat it later, alright?"

"Sounds fine, Parkinson."

She went sleepily over to the table and made slices out of the pink cake.  Then she took out a blue plate from a cabinet and put the two pieces of the cake on it.  "Here," she said. "It isn't very good. I baked it this afternoon."

"I'm sure it'll be amazing," he commented dryly.  He grabbed his cloak and she walked awkwardly towards the door.

"Good luck," she said sternly, "though I've never quite believed in it."

"Ah, me neither," he said quietly. "But I've always believed in you, Parkinson."

"I guess not enough."

"Well," he said, "thanks for having me over, Parkinson.  Twenty one. _God, you're growing up."_

"Give Mandy my regards," she said curtly.  He turned her face to him and he kissed her cheek gently.

"**_Happy Birthday, baby,"_** he said as the door closed quietly behind him.

She closed the heavy door and leaned against it.

**_Happy Birthday, baby._**

****

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**_*_**


End file.
